


Periculophilia

by Crystalwren



Series: Paraphilias and Other Compulsions [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloodplay, Incest, Knifeplay, M/M, Paraphilias, Periculophilia, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalwren/pseuds/Crystalwren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a first time for everything. And Sammy's always been an early starter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Periculophilia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephemerall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemerall/gifts).



> Periculophilia is a paraphilia. It's a sexual attraction to violent or dangerous situations.

It’s night and they’re hiding, lying on their bellies under the bushes as they wait for the witches to come out and play. The moon is full and bright, the brightest it’s been for months and months and the light paints the clearing in silver and grey. On nights like this the witches dance, creeping out from their hiding places in murky, mundane suburbia. Easy to find. Easy to hunt. Not so easy to kill but at least they can be tracked through the dark.

This is the first time that John’s allowed Sammy and Dean to hunt without him, and the first time that Sammy’s hunted humans. Dean can smell his excitement, feral and blood warm. Sammy stirs slightly, just a wiggle of his hips. It’s noiseless but Dean can feel it and he turns his head, presses his lips against Sammy’s temple. “Stay still,” breathed more than spoken. Sammy’s hair smells like the shampoo Dean had stolen from one of his one night stands, faintly sweet and cinnamon.

The air’s full of the sounds of insects calling, begging each other for a fuck. Every now and again they hush as some small predator slips by, but they start singing almost as soon as the danger has gone.

Sammy wiggles again. His arm comes around Dean’s waist and the warm metal of his knife presses against the small of Dean’s back. Delicious, feels so good but Sammy has to keep still. Dean nuzzles into the side of his neck and bites. Just a little nip but it’s enough to warn. Sammy quietens but he leaves his hand where it is, knife against Dean’s spine. One twitch and blood will be drawn.

The night is so beautiful.

Sammy fucked someone for the first time three days ago. He hasn’t said anything but Dean can tell, Sammy’s his little brother and no one knows Sammy better than Dean. It wasn’t a girl Sammy had slept with. It was some kid he’d met through the soccer team that he wasn’t supposed a part of. A boy a little older than Sammy, soft brown doe eyes to make up for skinny, gangling limbs. Dean doesn’t mind that; he knows that the first time is always strange and the who doesn’t really count. When Dean was Sammy’s age he used to get off on the thought of John getting off. It used to make him ashamed but when he discovered girls, discovered what was between their legs, that was the end of his fantasies of John. It’s over now, he’s moved on and stopped feeling guilty about it. But still. It’d been intense while it lasted.

There’s a soft hiss as Sammy breathes out. His hand moves again, the knife tucked carefully in his palm. He begins to stroke Dean’s spine, drifts gently over Dean’s buttocks, slides down onto Dean’s thighs and then moves back up. Sammy’s skin is so soft, no trace of beard just yet, tastes like soap as Dean mouths the side of his neck. The pulse under Dean’s lips jumps and the knife slips, point cutting through his shirt and piercing his skin. Just enough to draw blood and he makes a noise, just a small one, hidden under the mating calls of crickets and beetles.

“Wanna fuck you,” Sammy whispers and the knife cuts again, deliberately this time. Still shallow but more blood. “Wanna lick you.” The knife drifts back down and it suddenly pushes between his legs, pressing hard against the seam of his jeans. It’s dangerous and gorgeous.

“Later,” Dean says. He licks the bite mark he’s left on Sammy’s neck. Then he bites down again, hard. Sammy squirms, his hip pressing against Dean’s, breath coming short and hard.

Twigs snap and the crickets stop singing. The women are arriving, naked for the witches’ Esbat, heavy breasts swinging and their pubises black and shadowed. Dean’s mouth fills with saliva and he swallows, thinking about swallowing Sammy’s cock. The witches begin to dance in the moonlight, ritual dances, graceful and lustful, sex and fertility. Sammy’s knife presses harder, the flat of the blade shoving against Dean’s hole, rocking down to press against his balls.

Dean keeps biting Sammy’s neck, grinds his hips against the ground. Comes so hard that he’s wrung out, shaking when it’s over.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Sammy says again, his eyes fixed firmly on the women dancing to some silent beat.

And Dean helplessly, hopelessly, can only mouth, “Yes. Yes,” against his brother’s skin.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second fic of mine to focus on a paraphilia. It isn't part of a series but it does follow a general theme. 
> 
> Please forgive the purple prose and the spelling mistakes.


End file.
